Reasons
by amber-goddess
Summary: Leonardo's stressed out after a fight with Raph. He talks things out with Donatello, explaining a few things about why he is the way he is.


Disclaimer: Seriously, I don't own the turtles! I wish I did, but life being as it is, the fan fic is all I have...  
  
Authors note: I've just re-discovered my own love for the turtles, through a tape I found in my attic. Watching it made me realize what a great show it was, so I'm going through a phase where I can't stop thinking about them. Its funny but I never really liked Leo that much when I was a kid - he always seemed kind of boring compared to the rest of the guys. Now that I'm older though, I think I can appreciate him a bit more. Hope I haven't completely slaughtered his character in this! I just thought that he would be the turtle most likely to do the angsting.  
  
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One...two...three...four...five...  
  
Leonardo held the stretch for five seconds, counting the time elapse inside his head. His calf muscles ached a little at the stance but he knew that the feeling would pass momentarily. Standing tall he frowned critically, surveying the makeshift gym. Gym was, perhaps, a rather grandiose name for the assortment of battered gymnastics equipment Michelangelo had brought home one night. Leonardo had no idea where he had found them - in truth, he wasn't sure that he wanted to know. At any rate, he had found it a useful place to spend his ample free time, training and exercise providing him with a short-lived feeling of productivity in-between the more formal training that he participated in with his brothers.  
  
His gaze settled on the punch bag hanging in the centre of the room. Already having been working hard for almost an hour, his smooth brow was uncomfortably damp with beads of perspiration. It was one of those confusing points that made him question the means of his existence. Could a turtle sweat? Leonardo didn't know, but that small mark of his mutation only served to inflame the anger he had been fighting for the past hour or so.  
  
With a savage grunt, he planted a blow in the middle of the punch bag.  
  
Before it could swing back at him, he hit it again, and again, and again, losing himself in the motions. He allowed his mind to drift away, his body working with some instinct all of its own. He was only vaguely aware of the aching of his knuckles as he pounded at the heavy fabric. With growing force he aimed a powerful kick into the bag, causing the rope that held it in place to groan audibly. He gritted his teeth, his punches increasing in speed, ignoring the growing pain in his knuckles. He seemed somehow far away from his aching body, the distance strangely pleasing to him.  
  
With one final cry he summoned the last of his strength and hit out at the punch bag. A piece of the rope snapped, leaving the bag swinging drunkenly at a steep angle. It swayed uncertainly, still rebounding from the fury of his blows.  
  
Leonardo took a step back, chest rising with shallow breathing. Reaching out to still the wavering punch bag, he rested his forehead against the coarse fabric, closing his eyes briefly and waiting for his strength to return.  
  
He sensed rather than heard someone enter the room. Eyes snapping open, he whirled around in surprise.  
  
Donatello stood in the doorway, watching his brother with a mixture of interest and trepidation. He tilted his head to one side and gave a tight smile.  
  
"Did the punch bag to something wrong?"  
  
Leonardo blinked in confusion. "I...err...I was training."  
  
"Ahh." Donatello gave a knowing nod, glancing at the broken punch bag. "I see."  
  
There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence. The two young turtles stared at each other awkwardly for a minute, neither knowing quite what to say. Finally Leonardo looked away, busying himself with readjusting his joint pads and clearing his throat.  
  
"I guess you're here about that bust-up with Raph earlier, huh?" he queried, smiling grimly.  
  
Donatello arched a hairless eyebrow ridge. "Am I that transparent?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"You wanna talk about it?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Big surprise there." Donatello gave a sigh, shoulders sagging wearily. "Why do you have to rise to him, Leo? Why can't you just let things go?"  
  
"And why can't he show a little maturity for once!" Leonardo snapped. He hadn't meant for his tone to sound so harsh, and he was instantly regretful when he saw his brother give a small flinch. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself into calm. "Sorry Donny."  
  
The younger turtle hesitated slightly, then shook his head. "No worries."  
  
"So where is his royal sullen-ness now? Sulking in his bedroom?"  
  
Donatello paused, then nodded. "Mikey's gone to talk to him."  
  
Leonardo gave a hard laugh. "You think that's wise? The mood Raphael is in, he'll be lucky if he makes it out with all his limbs intact!"  
  
"He won't hurt Michelangelo, you know that." The purple-clad teenager took a step into the room, over to a wooden gym horse where he could lean more comfortably. "If anyone's going to be able to cool him down, it's Mikey."  
  
His statement was true, they both knew it. Raphael was a hot head, and his temper had been apparent ever since they were children. Of all the turtles however, it was Michelangelo who he seemed to display the greatest of his limited patience towards. It was for this reason that the youngest brother, with his laid-back outlook and caring nature, was usually the one who went to take the sting off Raph's anger. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Either way, Michelangelo never gave up.  
  
"And you thought that you'd come down here and try and get me to open up?" Leonardo asked, a slight trace of cynicism creeping into his voice.  
  
Donatello studied him with his head tilted to one side. "Uh-huh."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I was worried about you. I mean, you two fight all the time but I've never seen you go at each other like that before." Donatello winced slightly at the memory. "You looked like you were going to tear each other apart."  
  
"Maybe we would have," Leo muttered grimly, "If you hadn't have gotten in the way."  
  
Donatello arched his eyebrow ridges. "Hey, just be thankful that it was me and not Master Splinter."  
  
"Well you didn't have to hit me across the head with your bow!"  
  
"What did you expect me to do? Just leave you two to it??"  
  
Leonardo crossed his arms against his armored chest. "Sure. Why not?" He noted his younger brothers disbelieving look and rolled his eyes. "Oh come on Donny, this has been brewing for weeks. Maybe it would have been better if we had just duked it out once and for all."  
  
Donatello watched him silently for a moment, frowning in ill-disguised concern. "This isn't like you Leo..."  
  
"Just leave it, alright Don?"  
  
"I can't leave it. You're my brothers."  
  
Leonardo gave a quiet growl of irritation. "I told you - I don't want to talk about it."  
  
Donatello stared at him worriedly, then dropped his gaze to the cool sewer floor. He took several measured breaths, tapping his toes distractedly. When he continued, his voice was low and quiet - a considering murmur.  
  
"Is this about what happened last week?"  
  
Leonardo tensed at his words, then glanced hurriedly away. "Of course not," he muttered, "Why should it?"  
  
"Oh come on, Leo. You've been on edge ever since the fight with Shredder. And don't deny it, I know you better than that."  
  
The elder turtle gave a tired sigh. "Stop that."  
  
"Stop what?"  
  
Leonardo turned to look at his brother, weary half-smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Stop doing the brotherly thing. It gets really irritating sometimes, you know."  
  
Donatello looked at him sadly and gave a light shrug. "Its what I'm here for. Want to talk? I'm a great listener."  
  
"Mechanic, inventor, scientist, counselor..." Leo gave a drained laugh. "Is there anything that you can't do?"  
  
The purple-clad teenager paused, thinking deeply for a long moment. "I can't sing," he admitted after a while. "In fact Mikey's likened my voice to that of an asphyxiated turkey...whatever that means."  
  
Leonardo lowered his head, attempting to smile and failing miserably. Donatello's quiet presence had a calming affect on the turtle leader, quickly dispelling the anger and frustration that had been boiling within him for the past hour. Without his rage, however, he didn't have much else. His earlier fight with Raphael had exhausted him in mind if not body, and now he was suddenly acutely aware of just how tired he was.  
  
His limbs sagged as he sank down to the work-out mat, legs folded neatly under him and hands resting on the top of his muscles thighs. He watched as Donatello moved to sit beside him, the brothers seated so close to each other that their knees touched. The contact might have only been a small one, but it was strangely comforting to the young turtle.  
  
"It's just-" he allowed his eyes to slid closed briefly, frown creasing his forehead as he struggled to find the words for what he was feeling. "It's just that I wish he would take things more seriously for once. He's strong and he trains and exercises well...but there's more to it than that. He needs to learn to plan...to strategies. He can't just blunder into battles anymore - he could have been seriously hurt last week."  
  
"But he wasn't, was he? Leo, you can't freak out about things that haven't happened," Donatello reasoned gently. "Raph was in a bad situation. He was surrounded by foot soldiers and he dealt with it the only way he knew how."  
  
"Yeah," Leonardo gave a bitter snort. "He got himself in even more trouble."  
  
Donatello shook his head. "What does it matter? We fought our way through and backed him up. Nobody was hurt. Okay, it was a close call, but so are all of our fights with the shred-head. What's the big deal about this one?"  
  
"Oh...it's not just this one!" the elder boy threw his hands up in returning frustration. "Don't you see Donny, its no one fight - it's all of them! Every single battle that we go into, there's a chance that someone's going to end up hurt. Or captured. Or killed."  
  
"Of course there are risks, we all know that."  
  
"Do you think so?" Leonardo raised his eyebrow ridges challengingly. "I don't think you do. I don't think that any of you really understand the danger that you put yourselves in. What Raph did, running in stupidly like that, that just proves it. He doesn't stop, he doesn't think.and one of these days, hot-headed stunts like that are going to get him injured. Or worse," he added grimly.  
  
Donatello watched his brother without speaking. He contemplated his words in silence, drinking in their meaning. "And that why you were pushing Raph in training today?" he questioned quietly.  
  
Leonardo swallowed then nodded. "I know that I push him sometimes...I push you all, in fact. But I'm just trying to prepare you all for what's out there. Fighting's not just about witty one-liners and showing off aerobics." He allowed himself a brief scowl. "I'm tired of you guys treating it all like one big game. This is real. Real swords, real battles, real blood. That's why I have to push you all to your limits...I have to make sure that you're all ready to face this. It's my duty to protect you all. This is the only way I know how."  
  
Donatello continued to study him intently. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out and rested a hand against his brother's shoulder. "You can't protect us from life, Leo," he murmured softly.  
  
"Can't I?" Leonardo gave a sad smile. "What do you think I've been doing for the past ten years?" He sighed and shook his head with tired resignation. "Donny, I've been training ever since I was old enough to pick up a sword. I've studied, I've meditated, I've worked my body till there were times I could hardly get up in the morning...and I did it all so that I'd be better able to look out for you guys.  
  
You think that I didn't want to play with the rest of you? That I didn't want to just give myself a break and run around...just forget about training for a couple of hours? Of course I did! But I couldn't - I knew I couldn't, because in the back of my head I knew that...one day...we would need to fight, and I knew that I had to be ready. I never had a childhood, Donny, not in the way that the rest of you did. I gave it up...so that you guys would be able to have one."  
  
Donatello's hairless eyebrows drew together. "Leo..."  
  
"I know what you guys think of me," Leonardo continued, rubbing is hands together distractedly. "You think that I'm just this up-tight responsibility-freak drunk on a leadership trip. Alright, maybe I am sometimes. But I have to be. It's my job to prepare you for whatever's coming, just in case one day I'm not here to do it myself."  
  
Donatello stared at him apprehensively. "Don't talk like that."  
  
"Might as well face facts. Anyone of us could be killed at anytime. You think that Shredder would hesitate to get rid of us if he was given half a chance? And not just Shredder! There are a thousand enemies that we have to face...not to mention the normal everyday Joe's we fight to protect. I guess in many ways, they're the biggest threat of all."  
  
"You don't mean that."  
  
"Oh of course I do! Anyone of them would turn on us if they found out about us, and don't kid yourself that they wouldn't." He stared grimly into space. "We're freaks, Donny. Why do you think we live in sewers? For the scenic views? No, it's because Master Splinter knows exactly what they'd do to us if we dared show our faces up in the city. At the end of the day, the only people we can count on are each other."  
  
Donatello shook his head. "It doesn't have to be that way. If we carry on helping people, maybe one day they'll accept us."  
  
Leonardo turned to looked at his brother. His eyes had a jaded quality about them that made him seem suddenly so much older than his sixteen years. He wore the expression of someone who had been there, seen it all, and had the scars to prove it.  
  
"Maybe they will. But what then? Get jobs? Get married? Have a couple of kids? No, this is our life." He gave a small smile and looked away. "It's a real shame though. You would have made a great father, Donny."  
  
Donatello leaned closer to his brother, concern making his smooth brow furrowed. "Leo-"  
  
Whatever he was about to say was abruptly silenced as Michelangelo entered the room, arms loaded with pizza boxes.  
  
"Yo dudes, heads up! I come bearing gifts!"  
  
Both Leonardo and Donatello looked up hurriedly as the orange-clad teenager came towards them, trailed by a meek looking Raphael. The sudden scent of mozzarella was overpowering in the cool sewer air.  
  
Donatello frowned up at the youngest turtle doubtfully. "Pizza?"  
  
Michelangelo shrugged, grinning. "I figured we could all do with some sustenance."  
  
There was an awkward pause as Leonardo stood, Raphael taking a step closer towards the turtle leader. Neither seemed to know quite what to say, both looking extremely uncomfortable. The other two turtles glanced fearfully between them.  
  
Raphael cleared his throat suddenly. His eyes roved around the room, apparently looking everywhere accept to his brothers. "Listen, Leo..." he trailed into silence for a moment, rubbing a three-fingered hand along the nape of his neck. "Me and Mikey have been doing some talking, and..."  
  
"It's alright." Leonardo dismissed to attempted apology with a shake of his head. "I know."  
  
Raphael hesitated, then glanced up. "So...buds?"  
  
Leonardo gave a strangely weary smile.  
  
"You and me? Always."  
  
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Splinter watched the scene from a darkened doorway, hidden and unnoticed. He gave a nod to himself as he turned away, reaching for the stick he had propped up against a nearby wall and making his way down the long tunnel towards his make-shift study. He had heard the exchange between Leonardo and Donatello, as well as the following reconciliation over pizza. It had given him much to think about.  
  
Sighing to himself, he left his sons to enjoy their peace, knowing all too well how short-lived it would be.  
  
That was just the way things had to be. 


End file.
